


Lost in Waiting

by Rroselavy



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-01
Updated: 2010-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-10 08:33:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rroselavy/pseuds/Rroselavy





	Lost in Waiting

After the first year, Sanzo thought perhaps that Goku wasn't coming back. After the fifth year and countless visits to the Temple of the Setting Sun with equally as many inquiries to the Sanbutsushin about Goku's whereabouts, to no avail, he was certain of it.

He stood in the dusty, spare, room that Goku had once called home and realized that it was time to move on. Sanzo spent his day in the room gathering the bits of things that Goku had accrued from his temple life, the time on their mission and then, later, from Goku's travels alone at the bidding of the Sanbutsushin when they'd returned. There were an inordinate amount of rocks and pebbles - shiny things that tugged a sentimental smile from the monk as he found the comparison of Son Goku to a magpie not without merit. In the closet he found only the set of monk's robes he'd given Goku all those years ago when the boy had followed him off the mountain. He laid it out on the small cot and in the center he tossed all the personal effects he'd collected from emptied drawers, the bureau top and under the narrow bed, laying the strange pendant Kougaiji had given Goku as thanks after they'd stormed Houtou castle and helped the demon prince to vanquish his evil stepmother (what a trite fairytale that had ended up) on top of the pile before tying it together in a neat bundle.

On that day, Genjyo Sanzo decided to stop cutting his hair.

 

Five more years passed and now Sanzo's hair hung down his back in a heavy braid as he remembered Koumyou had worn his. The whispers of the elders behind shielded hands told him how eerie they found it that he'd taken on more of his master's appearance, how doing so had seemed to transform him. Somewhere along the line he'd become profound, someone the novices sought out for advice and poured their hearts out to. Sanzo would listen idly and, channel Koumyou in the lessons that he'd taught young Kouryuu. He didn't feel changed at all, though. What he did feel as time passed was more and more folded in on himself, and yet strangely, his act, taken to bring himself closer to his long-dead master, had served to keep him tied to Goku too. That he existed was certain, but he simply went through the motions of living without partaking in life. From time to time Sanzo wondered if Goku was still alive.

The answers he sought from the gods were always returned as vague assurances that Goku was well, but stopped short of saying that Sanzo would ever see him again. He supposed that he should have been prepared for that; he couldn't remain the boy's guardian when Goku had become a man and, by virtue of his role in their mission and conclusion, had become another pawn of those very same deities. That had rankled Sanzo; not in the least because the more missions Goku was sent on, the less business there seemed for Sanzo to take up with the Sanbutsushin. And so he'd found more often than not in the months leading up to Goku's final departure that it had been he who anxiously awaited Goku's safe return, much the way he'd waited for Koumyou to return from his long journeys.

Only, Koumyou's departures had never left Sanzo feeling so empty. Then again, it wasn't Koumyou's cacophonous voice that had for years rivaled his own inner dialog. The silencing of Goku's, shortly after he left the last time had made Sanzo feel loneliness as acute as a knife driven between his ribs. Even after ten years, a dull ache formed in his chest when he dwelled upon the fading memories of his former charge.

In the first months after the departure Hakkai and Gojyo were regular fixtures at the temple, often staying late into the evening on Fridays to play cards. They no longer played mahjong, now that their fourth was missing. As Sanzo withdrew though, the gatherings grew increasingly tense. The relationship that had grown between Gojyo and Hakkai grated on Sanzo's nerves. It wasn't that he hadn't expected it; he'd have had to have been dead not to have felt the undercurrent from the first time he'd met the other two. Hell, Goku'd even remarked on it. He just wasn't prepared for how much more alone and abandoned their openness made him feel.

"I don't need to be babysat, I don't need your company." All he wanted was Goku, didn't they understand?

"Maybe if you'd treated him-"

Sanzo wheeled on Gojyo. "You think that's what this is about? You have no idea."

"You're right. I can't imagine being in love with an ice princess like you, _Cherry-chan_."

"Oh, so now you're an expert on love?" Sanzo snorted derisively.

"Moreso than you!" Gojyo countered, his voice rising. Sanzo knew he was only looking out for Goku, but right at that moment, it didn't matter what the hanyou's intentions were.

"The gods took him away!" Sanzo bellowed, his voice, naked in its frustration echoed off the walls. "I can't even hear him anymore! He's gone!" The three men stared at each other in stunned silence for a few minutes.

"Don't that beat all," Gojyo finally mused.

"Gojyo, I think this is a sensitive topic," Hakkai sighed. "Sanzo, if there's anything else we can do ..." his hand came to rest on Sanzo's bare forearm. Sanzo knew his statement had cut both Hakkai and Gojyo to the core. None of them could imagine moving forward without Goku's larger-than-life presence, without his voice chattering away, without his formidable aura buzzing over Sanzo's skin.

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, earning a concerned look from Hakkai.

After a while they stopped dropping in on him together, though one or the other would show up once a month like clockwork, even when most times it meant an evening wasted in stony silence. He had to hand it to the two of them, they were stubborn.

 

As the time close near to mark the tenth anniversary of Goku's departure, Sanzo felt a subtle change in his consciousness, almost like an outer body experience. He lost his concentration when meditating, couldn't keep focus on the mountain of paperwork that never seemed to diminish no matter how long he toiled in front of it. He would catch himself folding origami airplanes.

The first time he heard Goku's voice, he convinced himself he was hallucinating. But then two days later he woke up to a familiar buzzing between his ears, distant, but unmistakably Goku. Sanzo was beside himself. Relief flooded through his body as he sat up in his bed and he laughed until tears rolled down his cheeks. He went about his duties that day with a lighter step and a smile on his face that earned him shocked looks from everyone he came into contact with, but he didn't care. All day the voice grew louder and louder, Goku was getting nearer and nearer.

He heard the concern in Goku's voice, the worry, the fear - did Sanzo even remember him? Would he want to see him. Sanzo implored him silently to come home. He rummaged through the depths of his closed and found the tattered robe he'd taken from Goku's robe and brought it back to his empty room, leaving it on his newly-made bed.

That night Sanzo tossed and turned for hours, unable to stop listening to Goku's chatter, now drowning out his own inner voice until he dropped off from utter exhaustion. It seemed as though he'd just closed his eyes when an urgent knock resounded off his heavy paneled door.

"Sanzo-sama, there's someone here to see you. He says it's urgent." Panic gripped him as he slipped into a simple yukata, he dispensed with his geta, pushing past the young novice and choosing to lope through the halls. His head was eerily silent again, something had happened!

Standing in his office, his back to the door was a man about Sanzo's height. His brunet hair hung down his past his shoulders in a rough-cut thick curtain; it wasn't until he turned to face Sanzo with amber eyes that he realized he was looking at Goku. He stood immobile, grateful then for the arms that wrapped around him, at least one of them could remember how to walk. Now if he could only remember how to breathe. Goku's chin came to rest on his shoulder and Sanzo's arms wrapped around his solid body. He turned his face and buried it in Goku's hair, smelling his unique scent, unshed tears glistened on Sanzo's eyelashes.

"I'm sorry," Goku murmured before he pulled away.

Sanzo's heart raced, it couldn't be! He gripped Goku by the elbows, pinning him under his gaze. It was then he noticed the coronet was gone. This must be a dream, and Goku, just a ghost! But Goku felt alive underneath his hands, Sanzo could feel his breath graze along his cheek. Sanzo held onto Goku, waiting for an explanation.

Goku slipped one arm from his grasp. Reaching out, he took the long, heavy braid in his hand and watched it slide through his palm only to land against Sanzo's chest.

"I didn't want to be gone so long, but it's done," he said. He raised his face and met Sanzo's gaze. "I'm free," he said finally. "All my debts are paid, I don't have to travel anymore."

A million questions formed in Sanzo's mind and then with a sigh he let them all go. They didn't matter. Nothing did, only that Goku had come home. Reluctantly he pulled away from Goku and reached for the telephone.

"Sanzo, what are you doing?" Goku's voice was deeper than he remembered, his eyes every bit as curious.

"I'm calling Hakkai and Gojyo, and telling them to bring over the mahjong set." As he dialed the numbers, he felt an arm slip around his waist. He pulled Goku against his body as the line began to ring.


End file.
